Never Goodbye
by Jessica237
Summary: EC. Of all the words he would ever say to her, Calleigh would never hear him say goodbye. Scene speculation fic for 8x05; contains possible spoilers.


**Title:** Never Goodbye  
**By:** Jessica**  
Pairing:** Eric/Calleigh**  
Rating:** T **  
Timeline:** Scene speculation fic for 8x05, based on some of the promotional pictures for the episode. Contains possible spoilers. Posted before the promos for 8x05 aired, so they are irrelevant as far as this fic is concerned.

**Summary:** Of all the words he would ever say to her, Calleigh would never hear him say goodbye.

* * *

If there was one part of the lab that never seemed to get the same preferential treatment as the rest of the lab, it was the locker room, and for the first time, Calleigh was beginning to understand why. While the floors throughout the rest of the lab remained pristine, the locker room floor seemed perpetually dusty, and the ever-flickering lights overhead did very little to help matters. Dark and eerily quiet, it was the perfect setting for the battle waged by her emotions.

The word to describe it was unwelcoming, and under the circumstances, Calleigh wasn't sure she'd ever feel at ease in there again. Goodbyes like this always tended to leave her shaken, despite the stoic exterior she adopted at all times.

Casually she rested against the lockers, watching the subject of her thoughts for a moment. She knew he knew she was there – he always seemed to know when she was near. And yet, nothing was hidden. His shoulders slumped slightly as he cleared his locker of his belongings, slipping what little he had into the bag resting on the bench. The shadows on his face were emphasized in the low, flickering light – he looked almost haunted, and though he hadn't specified, Calleigh knew there was something about the day's case that had rocked him to the core.

And she'd expected him to have a rough first few days back – he was, after all, returning once more from brain surgery. But Calleigh couldn't deny the way her jaw had dropped when she'd heard the news in passing from Horatio – Eric was leaving. For good.

As if to punctuate that silent thought, Eric swiftly closed his locker for the last time. Calleigh shivered involuntarily; the sound echoed through the room with an undeniable note of finality, as if proclaiming the inevitable end and mocking Calleigh's complete inability to change the outcome. It was a chilling thought, and Calleigh reflexively crossed her arms, fighting back the goosebumps that rose upon her skin.

He'd told her less than a year before that he couldn't imagine coming to work without her – now, she was the one facing that reality. And Calleigh_ couldn't_ imagine it – she knew it was going to hit her like a slap to the face the very next morning. The idea was just so foreign; she knew it would be a long time before she could wrap her mind around it. As far as she was concerned, Eric belonged at CSI. He belonged in the print lab; he belonged at crime scenes. He belonged in the Hummer beside of her, joking and laughing with her as they stopped for a quick lunch on the way to a knock-and-talk.

But now, that was all disappearing – just as Eric was disappearing. Calleigh swallowed hard, rather surprised to find a sizable lump growing in her throat. She drew in a deep breath, directing her feet to slowly approach him, but in the end, she could only bring herself a single step closer. "So I guess you're leavin' me…"

Her voice felt almost foreign to her; coarse and heavy, as though drawing immediate attention to the presence of unshed tears. Immediately Calleigh cleared her throat, crossing her arms tighter and offering a tight smile as Eric finally turned to face her.

It seemed his feet effortlessly traversed the distance she'd been unable to cross, and Calleigh couldn't help but flinch internally. As torn apart as she felt, Eric appeared almost relieved. And that left her heart clenching oh so painfully…at least until he too finally summoned his voice. Holding her gaze, he offered a soft smile, shaking his head in answer to her quiet inquisition. "No, never _you_. You know that."

Calleigh lowered her eyes, feeling her tight smile melt into a slightly warmer one. "Doesn't feel like it," she murmured, shrugging lightly.

Whatever nonchalance she'd hoped to adopt by gesture was completely useless against the dejection in her voice, and Eric felt the unmistakable tug to his heart. "Calleigh…" he murmured softly, the pure reverence in the two simple syllables sending a shiver along the length of Calleigh's spine.

"You didn't even tell me," she whispered, biting at her lip. "I heard it from Horatio, and even he was surprised that I didn't know."

Eric sighed heavily, resting a hand on the front of a locker. "I kind of didn't want to tell you until it was done. I, uh, I was afraid you might try to talk me out of it," he admitted, avoiding her eyes. "And it's just too hard for me to say no to you."

The underlying meaning was all but spelled out for her, and it left her shivering. If Calleigh had asked him, he probably _would_ have stayed. They'd had their recent misunderstandings, but above all else, what was most important to Eric was Calleigh's approval; Calleigh's happiness. And that touched Calleigh in a way she couldn't quite give a name to, but that wasn't enough to quell the ache that rose up at the secondary realization. "You're not happy here anymore, are you?"

Eric shook his head. "It's not about being happy," he said simply, waiting for Calleigh to meet his eyes before he continued. "This job…it has brought me some of the best things in my life. I had a family to turn to when mine seemed to be falling apart. I had two of the best friends I could ever hope for…one of whom is gone now," he paused, and Calleigh bit her lip at the flicker of sadness in his eyes. "And one…one who has become so much more to me than just a great friend. The things in my life that make me the happiest…I probably wouldn't have any of that if it weren't for this job."

He hesitated for a moment, almost as if searching blindly for the words to articulate the emotions spiraling through him. "But at the same time, this job has almost killed me…God, I can't even remember how many times," he continued softly, succumbing to an involuntary shudder."This whole thing with the Russian mob, the shooting, getting caught in those fires in the 'Glades those times with Alexx. I just…I can't do it anymore, Cal."

Calleigh nodded slowly, eyes to the dusty floor below. "Yeah, I see what you mean…"

It didn't mean she understood, though. Then again, it was a common, good-humored joke among the day shift – Calleigh Duquesne would likely still be "solving cases and kicking criminal ass on her deathbed." Originally Valera's words, if Calleigh remembered correctly. It made sense, though – to Calleigh, so much of her life _was_ this job, and she couldn't imagine not being a part of it.

And she'd had her own fair few brushes with death on the job. There was Hank Kerner…there was John Hagen. There was the time her Hummer had been run into the canal. Images of her kidnapping _still_ haunted her, though she was loathe to admit that to anybody, even Eric – he knew, though. Knew, but didn't press, and for that Calleigh would forever be grateful.

There was the time she had almost suffocated, landing her in the hospital fighting for her life. Shortly after that, she'd had a bag forced over her head. She'd been in numerous shootouts, numerous situations that had placed her life in peril…and yet, Calleigh still couldn't imagine walking away. Some people called her crazy; those who knew her best, resilient. Calleigh wasn't sure which it truly was – she just knew it was too far ingrained within her. She was born to be a criminalist; she could imagine nothing else.

But Eric…ten years, and he was walking away like it had been ten minutes. It baffled her, but Calleigh kept her thoughts locked away. It was futile, though – she had let Eric in far enough already that he could see through her shields; more often than he'd been able to before, he could read her like an open book. He smiled apologetically, edging closer to her in the silence of the locker room. "You have never taken a sick day in your life," he observed, smirking lightly at the look of indignance that touched Calleigh's face.

"I've taken a couple here and there," she insisted, once more lifting her eyes to Eric's – realizing too late that that had probably been his objective all along, and now she couldn't look away.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling if only but for a second. "Sure you have," he teased quietly, ignoring the narrowing of her eyes. "My point is…you are the most _dedicated_ person that I know. You don't let anything stand in your way. And to you, it probably looks like I'm running away." Calleigh opened her mouth to protest – that most certainly was _not_ what she thought – but Eric waved a dismissive hand. "I can't really explain this, Cal," he continued softly, his dark eyes pleading for understanding. "Maybe walking around for over two years with bullet shards in my head changed more than I thought. Or maybe it's a bit more introspective than that – maybe all that time in therapy left me reaffirming things. I don't know."

He sighed softly, feeling a ghost of a smile touch his lips as he watched the beginnings of understanding dawn in Calleigh's beautiful emerald eyes. "I can't really tell you what's different now than from a year ago. I can't figure that out myself," he said, offering a quiet whisper of a chuckle. "I just suddenly have this feeling, I guess, that if I don't get out of here now…"

He trailed off, but Calleigh followed effortlessly. "It'll be too late," she finished for him, finally lifting her emerald eyes to his.

"Yeah," he whispered, offering a tiny ghost of a smile. "I've been lucky so far," he reasoned, slowly lifting a hand to her cheek. Her skin was warm beneath his palm – a warmth he knew he could never get enough of. And when Calleigh smiled and leaned slightly into his touch, it made his statement feel all that much truer. Lucky, indeed. "I'm just worried that those odds are going to run out on me. Before, it was different, but now…" He paused, allowing his fingers to slip into the soft vanilla locks of her hair – he would _always _treasure feeling that softness against his fingertips. "I'm just not willing to take that risk anymore."

If possible, his eyes grew even more serious, and Calleigh couldn't help but gasp quietly at the depth of emotion she nearly found herself drowning in. "I'm not going to risk it anymore," he repeated, gently stroking the top of her hand with his thumb. "Not when I have something so amazing to live for," he finished, his eyes negating any ambiguity that might've been present in that loaded statement. Again Calleigh felt her breath hitch as she squirmed beneath his gaze. _She_ was that something – _they_ were that something, and just knowing how much that meant to him left her heart fluttering.

It was too much – too much emotion, too much weight, and Calleigh swallowed hard, forcing her eyes briefly away from his. "So – so what are you going to do instead?" she asked, knowing that not for one second did he miss the almost concealed tremble in her voice.

He didn't call attention to it, though, and for that Calleigh was thankful. She was more open to him than she'd ever been before, but sometimes, too much emotion was exactly that – too much. Instead, Eric merely exhaled, smiling softly as he contemplated her question. "I'm not entirely sure…haven't really thought that far ahead yet." He paused, shrugging lightly. "This was just something that was – it was sort of spur-of-the-moment, you know?"

Calleigh smiled – this was impulsive Eric who stood before her now. She loved impulsive Eric; some of the best nights she'd spent with him had come from his impulsive side, but right now, she couldn't help but worry. Was he making the right decision? Would he regret it later? Did he have a plan at all?

Reaching out to him, she gently took his free hand in hers, slowly caressing his palm with her thumb. "How do you know this is what you want?" she asked concernedly, looking deep into his dark eyes. Within them, Calleigh saw no sign of turmoil, no sign of regret. He'd made up his mind, and his mind was at peace with that decision.

"I don't," he said simply, honestly. And truly, he didn't. He couldn't say whether or not he might wake up one morning a few months or years down the road and decide he missed the crime lab. His path was a blank slate now, just waiting for some direction, and for once in the career aspect of his life, he enjoyed the freedom. "I just know that for now, this feels right. And…" He paused for a moment, and when he continued, his voice was hushed, lowered for her ears only. "I know that it works for what I really _do_ want."

There was no secret behind his words – everything he meant to say was right there in his deep chocolate eyes. An undeniable warmth spread throughout Calleigh's body, and if she'd worried before whether she might be losing him, all her doubts were now silenced. It _was_ only the job that he was leaving behind. Not her; never her.

Still, it would be hard to step into the print lab every day and see someone else standing where Calleigh had grown so accustomed to seeing Eric. "Eric…"

He smiled again, though to Calleigh's immense dismay he allowed his hand to drop back to his side, eliminating the blessed contact. She'd grown hypnotized by the soft motion of his fingers in her hair, against her cheek; to have it torn so abruptly away was a bit of a rude awakening. Gently she squeezed the hand she still held, smiling softly when Eric returned it. "This will be good for us," he said softly, his voice still just above an intimate whisper.

Calleigh nibbled at her lip. "How do you mean?"

"We're out in the open now – if I'm not here, then Stetler can't give you any hell about 'interdepartmental fraternization,'" he clarified, utilizing air-quotes for emphasis. "Plus," he continued, a sudden gleam in his dark eyes, "if I don't work here, then I can freely visit you at lunch and do this." Before Calleigh could react, he swooped in and swiftly captured her lips, kissing her softly.

It was amazing how, even after several months and several hundred – maybe _thousand_ – kisses, Eric Delko could still reduce her world to the feel of his lips against hers. It was merely a soft kiss, though, and the moment that Calleigh fought to deepen it, Eric pulled back, leaving her mildly frustrated, but still mostly dazed and tingly from the unexpected kiss. Her lips tugged upward, and before she could even process the motion, her tongue flicked out over her lips, seeking out the last remaining taste of him. "You do that anyway," she reminded him coyly, her cheeks lightly pink.

"So I do." Eric grinned. "Well, now I can do it more." He leaned in again, leading Calleigh to close her eyes in anticipation. But instead of reclaiming her mouth, he softly brushed his lips against her forehead, tenderly showing just how much she truly meant to him.

She would've been fine if not for that.

But the tender caress of his lips against her forehead was just too much. The tiny action left her feeling so very cherished, but the longer he lingered, the more it felt as though it was his way of saying goodbye. "This is ridiculous," she murmured, shaking her head at herself.

"What is?" Eric asked quietly, tilting his head.

"I _know_ I'll see you again, maybe even tonight. But, I don't know…this just feels…" She hesitated, swallowing the inexplicable lump forming her throat. She could feel the moisture pooling in her eyes and knew that any attempt to hide it would give her immediately away. "It feels like goodbye, you know?"

Her voice cracked, the sound enough to break Eric's heart. "No." A simple word, but so vehement it was – so much so that it gave Calleigh chills. The sight of her emerald eyes, so glassy with unshed tears, tugged at his heart in the way that only Calleigh had ever been able to do. It wasn't often that Eric had seen her cry, but on the few occasions that he had, he'd been struck with the direst need, the deepest desire to comfort her. By what mechanism – drawing her into his arms, kissing away her tears, anything – it didn't matter. In his opinion, there was nothing worse than crying Calleigh – that was something that should _never_ happen.

Tugging at her hand, he pulled her deftly into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around her. "I could _never_ say goodbye to you," he breathed, pressing a kiss into her soft locks. "Never." He burying his face against her soft locks, breathing in what he knew to be the sweetest scent in the world – vanilla, with just a hint of coconut, and the sweetness that was just so uniquely Calleigh. There was nothing that could ever compare, and just the thought of never waking up to that ever again, never waking up beside of her again – it shattered his heart.

And the only cure for that blinding ache was to have her, his Calleigh, snugly within his arms. He felt her arms snake him, holding him just as tightly as he held her. And before he could even think about it, before he even had the chance to process the consequences, his voice was tumbling once more from his lips. They were words that he'd known to be true for quite some time now, but too much thought had always held him back. But tonight was about emotion, and the emotion behind those three words would no longer be held back – they tumbled uninhibited from his lips, whispered directly to her ear. "I love you."

Calleigh tensed instinctively, but quickly she relaxed, melting against his body. The words echoed repeatedly in her ears, a soft, warm proclamation that suddenly left everything in the world just right. Certainly she'd heard the words before, but they'd never meant as much as they meant now – they'd never meant as much from anybody else. Just hearing it left her heart skipping a beat; it awakened the butterflies in her stomach and bathed her in an inexplicable warmth that she'd only ever found in Eric's arms.

And suddenly, she _knew_.

Her feelings for Eric had always been different, but love? She'd always been hesitant to give them that label.

But now, it was unquestionable.

The reason for the perfection she felt in his arms, the reason for the warmth that surged through her when he'd said those words. The reason for the way they seemed to fit together so perfectly in every way – it was all that little four letter word, and for the first time, Calleigh was _sure_ of it.

It hurt to think of him leaving because she _loved_ him.

The words slipped from her lips in a breathless whisper, nearly inaudible to her own ears, but Calleigh knew instinctively that Eric had felt it. She felt the way his arms tightened around her; she felt more than heard the hitch of his breath, and as she clutched her fingers in the fabric of his shirt and whispered them again, Eric's lips sought out her temple and traced softly against it as he too repeated those words.

Her eyes were watery when finally they separated, and Eric's palms quickly found her cheeks, thumbs ready to catch the lone bit of moisture that spilled over from her eyes. He'd always thought it impossible that she could be any more beautiful, but again he found himself proven wrong. It _had_ to be the revelation of those words that had given her such a soft glow in his eyes; there was no other explanation. And then she smiled, and Eric felt his stomach turn a series of dizzying flips.

Hands still on her cheeks, he dove in once more for one last kiss, lingering just a bit longer than the first. "I _do_ love you," he repeated, relishing the feel of the words as they slipped from his lips. No truth had ever felt so sweet.

She smiled softly, lifting a hand to cover one of his at her cheek. "I'll miss you," she murmured, her inflection much lighter than the one she'd expected to infuse into those same three words.

Eric grinned in response. Letting out a deep breath, he finally broke the last bit of contact between them, knowing that Calleigh felt the sudden chill just as deeply as he did. "I'll miss you too," he breathed, pausing for one slow minute before he winked. "But I'll see you tonight."

Calleigh's soft smile quickly bloomed into the one that never failed to have Eric's knees buckling. "I'll be waiting for you," she replied softly, casually resting against the lockers.

He nodded, dropping one more swift kiss to her forehead. Calleigh sighed, her eyes never leaving his as he slowly crossed the room once more and retrieved his bag from the bench. "So this is it, then, I guess."

"But not goodbye," she reminded him, loving the smile that tugged at his lips.

He shook his head, once more summoning those same words he'd reassured her with earlier. "No, never goodbye. I think of it as a…a hello to new beginnings."

"How very profound of you," Calleigh replied, smiling as Eric responded with a chuckle. "I like it though. New beginnings, huh?"

"I like to think so, yeah." Eric grinned, slinging his bag lazily over his shoulder. "I've got a couple of loose strings to tie up before I head out, so…" He trailed off, gesturing toward the door. "I'll see you tonight." He paused for merely a second. "Beautiful."

Calleigh smiled brightly, sighing softly as Eric finally turned away from her. She watched him take one step, two, and then a third before she realized something he'd forgotten. "Hey, Eric?"

Immediately he stopped, turning back to her with an expectant look in his deep eyes and a smile playing at his lips. Calleigh smiled softly, inclining her head toward the locker he'd just vacated. "You, uh, forgot your nameplate."

Eric followed her eyes, his lips tugging upward as, one last time, his gaze fell upon his last name decorating the front of the locker. "So I did," he said quietly, slowly turning back to Calleigh. His voice was light when he spoke again, but the intensity in his eyes belied that. And while Calleigh expected nothing less of him – after all, everything that Eric Delko did, he did with a deeper reason than what showed on the surface – the magnitude of that intensity still drew a shiver along the length of her spine. "You keep it," he finished, nodding slightly.

"You sure?" she asked, tilting her head. "You spent ten years here; you don't want to take that as a souvenir?"

Eric chuckled. "Nah…to be honest, I believe I got something much better than a silly nameplate out of my ten years here," he said, offering Calleigh a wink that left her knees weakening beneath her. "So I think you should keep that."

Calleigh nodded. "Okay," she replied softly. It was such a small gesture, and yet it warmed her heart so dearly, so completely. She smiled; how she had _ever _questioned it before was beyond her – she truly was in love with that man.

Eric returned her nod, taking a half step to the door before another thought struck him. He faced her again, one hand on the doorframe as he spoke. "Definitely keep it. Especially since, if I have my way…" He paused, an almost shy grin tugging at his lips. Calleigh knew he was contemplating the weight of his final words as his eyes flicked once more to the nameplate which adorned his locker, so prominently displaying his identity, his last name.

When his gaze locked with Calleigh's once more, she couldn't help but draw in a sharp breath. Time seemed abruptly to halt; there existed nothing outside of that single, quiet moment. His intentions crashed into her like a train, stealing her breath and leaving her swaying on her feet. And if she hadn't been resting against the row of lockers when he spoke, Calleigh was certain that she would've melted to the ground.

And even after he disappeared from the doorway, Eric's parting words echoed loudly in her ears, words that would forever quicken the beat of her heart.

"If I have my way, it'll be yours someday anyway."


End file.
